When morning came, Hermione woke feeling confused. Why was Ron in her bed?

And then the night before came flooding back. Ron wasn't a virgin anymore.

He smelled good. The heavy drapes didn't let much light in. The light that did find them made Ron's hair seem to glow a little in the dark room.

How many times had she imagined what it'd be like to share a bed with him? To wake up next to him?

And yet she felt so utterly guilty about the whole thing.

She had to talk to Harry.

Quietly, so as to not to disturb Ron's sleep, she slid out of her narrow bed, slipped her pajamas back on and tiptoed to the door. Without a backward glance, she stepped into the hallway and clicked the door shut behind herself.

Should she try Harry's room? Or wait downstairs in the kitchen? Maybe he was already down there? What time was it?

She started down the stairs and was glad she had opted for waiting in the kitchen because even from a floor above, she could already smell toast.

Harry was sitting at the kitchen table with a bunch of papers in front of him. Hermione watched as he took a sip of tea.

"Harry," Hermione said softly from the doorway. He flinched and glanced up. "Sorry," she said.

"'Salright. Sleep well?"

"Mm. Yes. You?"

"Not really. Toast?"

"Oh. Yes, please." Hermione padded over to the kettle and poured herself a cup of tea while Harry magically popped a piece of bread in the toaster behind him. "What are you reading?"

"I've finally started going through these papers. From my parents' vault. I wish someone had told me… I have enough money that I could probably go without working a day in my life. And that real estate agent was right. I own what's left of my parents' house in Godric's Hollow."

"Wow. That's good."

"Mm."

"Are you going to fix it up? The house?"

"I don't know… I want to, but, well, you saw it. It's sort of a monument…"

"Right. But, I think your parents would have liked the idea of you moving in there someday."

"Yeah? You think so?" Harry looked down at the papers. She wondered what he was thinking. He seemed embarrassed, but she wasn't sure why.

"Listen, Harry…" While she was embarrassing Harry, she figured she might as well say what she wanted to say when she woke up. "You know I care for you so much. More than anything. You're like the brother I never had."

He looked up at her with a questioning look. "I hope you wouldn't kiss your brother the way you kissed me." The corner of his mouth quirked up.

"No." Hermione stared at him for a moment. "I… Harry I'm sorry I was so confused. I was just scared of the thought of spending the rest of my life with a guy I've known since I was eleven."

Harry didn't look up from the papers but she could tell he wasn't reading them. "I thought you were twelve when we started first year?"

"Harry-"

He glanced up at her and then to the sink. "You know, if you and I had ended up together, you still would have ended up with a guy who you've known for that long." Harry stood and carried his empty tea cup to the sink as Hermione's toast popped up in the toaster. "Scourgify." Harry stood with his back turned to Hermione as his cup washed itself in the basin. Hermione stared across the room at her toast but didn't move to get it.

"I know. Look." She gazed over her shoulder at the doorway even though she knew no one was there. Harry didn't turn to face her so she spoke to his back. "I don't know what that was between us, but we can never be together. I'm so sorry Harry. I love you so much, I hope you know that. But we can only be friends. I wish we'd never done what we've done."

"Hermione," Harry whispered. He still didn't turn to face her. Hermione walked to his side and leaned her hip against the sink so she could see his face in profile.

"What?" she whispered back.

"I get it. You can stop saying it now, okay?"

"If Ron had never come back… maybe things would have been different." She shrugged and watched Harry's jaw clench.

"But he did come back."

"Yes. He did." She paused for a moment and then said in a whisper, "I think I'm just trying to convince myself as much as I'm trying to convince you."

They were quiet for a minute while Hermione bit her lip. Harry kept staring at his cup in the basin.

"Ron and I were… together… last night," Hermione said softly after a moment.

"Together?" He finally looked up at her. His big green eyes seemed even larger behind his glasses.

She tried to keep her voice even. "It felt right. Like the way things should be."

"Right. I'm sorry. I'm glad you've gotten things figured out. We were both just confused, like you said."

She could see the pain in his face. It took everything she had not to touch him. "Right," Hermione said, trying to grin reassuringly.

Harry's gaze jumped all over her face. Her eyes, her cheeks, her lips, her eyebrows… Hermione suddenly realized how close she'd been standing to him. She wanted to make herself take a step back, but she didn't.

"Do you want me to Obliviate you?" Harry asked her quietly. He slipped his wand from his back pocket and held it up to show her that he had it.

Hermione felt tears spring to her eyes. She thought of the night she came to his room surrounded by jars of blue flames, and then later on, when she was naked with him in his bed… did she want to forget that?

"I-I don't know. Do you want me to Obliviate you?" She didn't want to do it.

"No." He smiled sadly. "I don't think that'd be very… safe." Could he see in her face that she didn't feel the same way? He kissed her forehead and wiped her tears away with his thumbs.

Then, he took a step back and, concentration worrying his eyebrows, he cast the memory charm on Hermione. She wouldn't remember any kiss that they shared. Not even the first one-the one on the bathroom floor that was an accident. Nor would she remember the Fates that they shared.

He watched as Hermione's eyes unfocused for moment and then he strode away toward the door. He didn't want her to see how upset he was when she came back to reality.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hermione spoke again. "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry. What were we talking about? I dazed out there for a second."

"Oh just those papers on the table there. You should take a look at them. I'm off," Harry said from the doorway. He stared pointedly toward the floor.

"Oh right. Work. What time is it?" She glanced around but there wasn't a clock in the room.

"I'm already late for work but I don't care as I'm quitting."

"Oh. Are you sure that's what you want to do?" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

"I need one more year before I start at the ministry I think. There's so many things I need to do." He turned to leave.

"Harry-"

He turned back toward the kitchen once more and waited silently for her to speak.

"Oh. I was going to say something but it just slipped my mind. Sorry."

Harry nodded once and seemed like he tried to smile. Then, he looked down to the ground again, turned and walked away.

Slowly, Hermione made her way back to the table and sat down. She sipped her tea until, to her surprise, it was gone.

She hardly ever got this feeling-like something was just beyond her, on the tip of her brain. She was forgetting something. It was an annoying feeling.

Setting her cup down on its saucer, she saw that Harry's papers from the bank were still sitting in a neat pile on the table. Slowly, she pulled the papers toward herself and began to read.

The first thing on the pile was a parchment that was so long that it was folded up at least five times over. It was titled "Gringott's Bank Magically Calculated Monthly Balance of Vault 687: Potter" and in very small font were the month, year and balance for decades. It appeared to Hermione that in the years before and while Harry was at Hogwarts, the balance accrued so much interest that Harry now had at least ten percent more money than his parents actually left him. He was right, he really didn't have to work.

He had the deeds for Number 12 Grimmauld Place and his parents' house in Godric's Hollow. His birth certificate. His parents' birth and death certificates. Oddly, also Sirius's birth and death certificates.

There was a magically recorded birth and death record for his family… Hermione's mouth dropped open: it began with the Ignotius Peverell. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised.

And, there was a birth certificate for a baby born less than a year ago: Edward Remus Lupin.